


An Arm Cast

by Ceil



Category: Ocean's 8 (2018)
Genre: F/F
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-16
Updated: 2019-05-16
Packaged: 2020-03-06 05:43:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 609
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18844798
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ceil/pseuds/Ceil
Summary: Things have stayed relatively quiet since the team pulled off the heist, but when Lou comes back from California injured with her arm in a cast, Debbie’s concerns and stress levels go from 0 to 100 real quick. Warning: Hurt/comfort, angst, love + cuteness, the works.





	An Arm Cast

Prison may have been “rough,” even in hindsight, but to say Debbie Ocean had just experienced the most difficult three months of her life—out of jail, totally crime-free (minus a single crazy Met heist) no less—would still be an understatement.

Sure, she was a con. That much was obvious. But even with the agonizing weeks-long plans and painstakingly meticulous outlines, she wasn’t exactly patient, and therein lied the problem. She could be “patient” through her sentence, though her bunkmates who felt her tapping her feet against her bed frame at 2 am would likely disagree. She could be “patient” as the heist went down, to ensure all went exactly according to plan, not one team member out of place. And she could be “patient” as Lou went on her California coast trip. Totally. No prob. It was just fine. But unfortunately for her, Debbie never had a good barometer when it came to “patience.” 

Lou needed to leave, and Debbie needed to let her, and they both knew it, but only one of them kept agonizing over it, though she’d never admit it to the world. Debbie was never one for admitting sentimentally, so she stuck to the sidelines once Lou announced her San Fran motorcycle extravaganza, licking the wounds she refused to admit were there in the first place. 

“You sure you’re not bothered by this?” Lou had asked, fully knowing the answer that was true and the answer she was going to get anyway. Debbie just shrugged. 

The thing is, Debbie did kind of want Lou to go. Not for herself, that much was blatantly clear. She would rather gather up the blonde in her arms and hold tight against the tide of the world, but she’d be quicker to shoot her own self first than admit that. So she went with the next best thing—silently supporting a trip Lou concocted, all her own, a solo adventure on the brink. 

“It’ll be good for you,” Debbie threw in, unhelpfully. “I’m glad.” It wasn’t much, but the sentiment rang clear. 

It didn’t make it hurt less, though. Debbie was a wreck, but she’d rephrase that if given the choice. When the day came for Lou to ride off into the sunset without her, she had to coach herself in the mirror for five solid minutes to train her deviant chin to stop quivering without permission. 

It started out fine. The whole gang was there; everyone saying goodbye to Lou, but it was fine. Constance was in charge of music, and it was predictably ridiculous and full of YouTubers-turned-pop artists nobody else had heard of, and Daphne was throwing a hissy fit over having to sip out of a Solo Cup. Totally fine. 

Everything was smooth, until the elephant in the room started saying goodbye to everyone. “I’ll be back,” Lou promised, running a light few fingers down Debbie’s arm, barely making contact, as if she didn’t know what it was doing to her. 

Debbie just nodded, but she didn’t really believe Lou for some reason. Lou never lied, so that admittedly wasn’t very fair. But it was what it was, and Lou, perceptive as ever, seemed to get it right away. Lou just pulled her into a tight hug, all muscles and sincerity, and Debbie melted, suddenly out of control of her body, nodding into Lou’s shoulders at questions she wasn’t asked. 

And when Lou walked out of the house and shut the door, Debbie felt her heart sink in a way it only had a handful of times in her life. She ignored everyone else and went upstairs. And she maybe cried a little.


End file.
